


Unfamiliar Intimacy

by horrors_doorstep



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, it originally was meant to be but now it's not, not just reader inserts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-10-22 09:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17660513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrors_doorstep/pseuds/horrors_doorstep
Summary: literally just a collection of one-shots/imagines for any character in Dead by Daylight (except the Clown & Bill, because I didn't notice any tags for them.)RULES: you have to tell me:1. the character2. whether you want the short story to be in first, second, or third person (i, you, or your character name)3. what the plot is (it helps SO much if you are specific)4 (optional): the settingthank you!





	1. Quentin Smith

_requested by:_ me

**********************************

"Good evening, Quen." Venus lightened the mood with a small smile at the boy who had just walked into her apartment. She could tell he hadn't been sleeping again, and she felt a jolt of sorrow in her chest for him. His eyes sparkled as Venus beckoned for him to join her on her bed, and that he did with a weak smile on his face. He truly did feel happy to finally see her that day, but he had too little energy to fully show it. Venus was happy to see him, too, and she had just the right amount of energy to show him that she had been waiting hours for this moment; the moment to lay down and relax, taking in the other's sweet, alluring presence.

Quentin rested beside Venus, his crescent-shaped eyes staring at her with soft affection. He blinked and smiled sweetly at her, wrapping a nimble arm around her to pull her closer. Her eyes flicked up toward his, reflecting soft happiness. Her facial expression reflected the same, and it seemed to be quite contagious, as Quentin matched her expression.

"How are you, love?" Venus liked to check up on her small sleepy boy. It reassured her when she saw improvements in his sleep and his mood overall. She didn't expect him to be perfect all across the board, of course, because Freddy was still wasting his time tormenting a young man with a life that longed for affection and protection. He just wanted to be left alone, and Venus placed a capsule of hope inside of him for that life. Eventually, she presumed, Freddy would leave Quentin be for once, and then he could be happy and filled with energy, able to spend much more time and do many more things with Venus. 

"I'm alright," he sighed, closing his eyes, hoping he could get an inch of sleep as long as Venus was right beside him. She knew how the mechanisms with Freddy worked, so if she needed to protect Quentin in any way, she could.

That surely assured her that he'd be safe (and she would be too) if they were together.

"How much sleep did you get?" 

The answer was expected: a sorrowful 'no'.

"That's alright," she reassured him. "That's what this time is for."

Quentin nodded and smiled. Venus brought up her hand and began to run her fingers through Quentin's hair, soothing him enough to instantly put him to sleep. In just a few minutes, he was muttering words in a half-asleep state, and in no time at all was he asleep. Venus took this time to look at him with a loving gaze, smiling powerfully as she watched her boy finally get the sleep he deserved. It was a no-brainer; everyone needed sleep - but for Quentin, it was a scarce luxury. Venus was glad to let him sleep over plenty of nights to give him a sense of protection, just as he would do for her when she had panic attacks from her own traumatic experiences. Even though she would love to go out and explore the world with him, she didn't mind cuddling the night away at all. In fact, she might have preferred it.

Before she fell asleep herself by gazing upon his undeniably adorable sleeping face, Venus heard him open his mouth to speak in the half-asleep trance he had slipped in and out of. 

"I love you," he mumbled sweetly.

"Quen," she whimpered with delight, "I love you too."

"Cutie." She chuckled at his last word, and then she pressed her face to his chest and let herself fall asleep in his embrace - only for a bit, though.

 


	2. Evan MacMillan | The Trapper

_requested by:_ 0ThatFanGirl0

**********************************

The smell of warm coffee filled my nose, reminding me of the night before, although there was no coffee involved that night.

It was a bit of a blur, sure, but I remembered the most important parts, and that was all I needed to remember.

I rounded the corner to see him - Evan, of course, my dearest love - toying with the coffee pot, trying to pour two cups of coffee. His head shifted slightly to the left to look at me, even though I hadn't made a single noise yet. His eyelids drooped over his eyes, revealing only a half of what normally appeared, but as long as I could still see the brightness in his eyes, I was more than pleased.

"Hi, Evan," I chirped, nuzzling my head up to his side. He wasn't amazingly tall - well, yeah, he was - but I met up to about his chest, maybe a bit lower. Instead of standing on my toes, he'd usually just lift me up for a kiss. His arms were surely strong enough to do so, and I didn't mind him doing all the work. He didn't seem to mind, and he got something out of it.

"Good morning, sweetheart." His voice was riddled with huskiness, telling me that he was obviously under-rested. His eyes flicked over to mine, and he continued pouring the cups of coffee as I smiled at him. A small, half-assed smile. I thought I heard him chuckle a bit. I think I was right.

He finished pouring the cups and set the coffee pot down, grabbing a cup for himself and handing one to me. I smiled at him again and followed him into our bedroom, watching as he relaxed on the bed. He wasn't using his words or his hands, but something in his eyes told me he  _really_ wanted me to join him on that bed.

I'd be crazy if I refused.

Therefore, I waddled towards the sheets and rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was quite relaxing - not surprising to me, but maybe to others.

He brought up a wandering hand and began to rub my cheek, muttering under his breath some sounds of enjoyment. He raised his hand, starting to run his fingers through my hair, twisting and stroking alike. 

I really enjoyed these times. Both of us were busy most of the time, and it was a rarity to have a moment to ourselves. This morning, however, was quite the moment, and we'd spend every second of it together. We cherished our time together, all to save it for the times we couldn't have together. It was surely a hardened sacrifice.

I looked up at him endearingly after a few moments of my hair being played with, and reached farther. He completed the distance between us, pressing his lips to mine, and I felt my heart sink into my chest. There was no way this was happening; I was so lucky.

Turns out that he thought the same thing.

After I was satisfied enough, I pulled away and let my head drift back down onto his warm chest. His eyes followed me as I did so, and I gave him one last small smile before he began to play with my hair again. 

I started to sing quietly. I know he liked that. When we have intimate moments like those, he loves it when I sing during. So that I did, and I could feel how satisfied he seemed to be.

Eventually, he interrupted my song with a whispered phrase in my ear that came after my name. "I love you" was his phrase of choice, and he said it with such intimidating power that I felt my heart skip way too many beats.

I looked up at him. "I love you too, Evan." And with that, he grabbed the sides of my face and pressed his lips to mine again, and again, and again...

Needless to say, after a few minutes, we were definitely out of breath.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my day hasn't been going so well, but writing this kinda helped, not gonna lie.
> 
> this is also kind of short but it's hard to write an in depth story when plots aren't specified - and I'm not saying that your request didn't meet the requirements, it's just that usually when people give me more elaborate prompts, I'm usually able to write a lot more without being in fear of doing something that the requester doesn't want me to do.
> 
> regardless, it was fun to write, and I hope you enjoyed it <3


	3. Herman Carter | The Doctor

_requested by:_ A Fluffy Puffball

****************************

The sun had not even risen yet. We went to sleep, and what felt like fifteen minutes later, Herman was up and getting ready for work.

As soon as I felt the sheets move next to me, I opened my eyes drowsily and rolled over to look at him. He was scrambling to something to hold on to - that's how tired he was - and his eyes pulsated, staring me down just as I was him. A petite smile crept onto his face, coating him with a reassurance and a wake-up call when I smiled back. Something in his chest - maybe his heart - pulsated with his pupils, and I giggled. He stumbled back to the bed and rolled back under the covers, wrapping his arms around me warmly.

"Don't wanna get up yet, huh?" I muttered teasingly. He opened his eyes again to search my face for any sense of remorse, but there was no regret to be found. I giggled again, and he pursed his lips as hard as he could to avoid laughing with me. He always tried to halt his laughs; either it was because he was afraid to show emotion at any point in time, or he wanted to make me smile even more. Didn't matter; he made me smile all the time anyway, no matter what he did.

Once he dropped his act, he began to smile the half-asleep smile he did at me. I poked his cheek playfully, trying to awaken him just as he'd awakened me with rustling in the sheets and a stupid, drowsy face to make me laugh.

I wasn't complaining, though.

"I never want to get up this early," he whined quietly into my ear. I pushed my face into the pillow and immediately lifted myself back up. My hair was not the tidiest, and he knew that as he brushed the stray hairs out of my face and planted a sweet kiss on my cheek.

He continued to play with my messy hair, and I rested my face in the pillow, gazing up at him. I purposefully hid the side of my face that he'd kissed, just so he could get the satisfaction of seeing me embarrassed by something romantic he'd done. _It wasn't like we had actually cuddled together plenty of times... definitely not._

"What time is it?" I mumbled, still refusing to pick my face up from the pillow and rest my head on my hand. Herman twisted his body to stare at the bedside clock for fifteen whole seconds until he could make out the four blinding red numbers displayed. Yes, it took that long, and no, I didn't bully him about it. I was blind in the morning too.

"Just about 5:30," he sighed, realizing how little time he had left with me. I knew that he wished he was at home more, but to earn good money, he had to work hard and long hours, too. I respected that fact, even if it made me overwhelmingly upset sometimes when we'd planned something together and he had to decline because of having his work hours constantly extended.

"Sounds like you better be getting ready soon, mister," I teased again. He let himself break into a smirk, and he lifted himself reluctantly above the bed, stepping onto the floor. I jammed my finger in his back playfully, and he swiveled around to give me a daring glance before stalking out of the room.

I decided to tail him loosely, not wanting to bother him as he got ready - every time he got ready, his anger increased rightfully so - and I let him have the distance he needed. After all, he was angry about having to leave me, so at first I thought I would need to shower him with energy, love, and attention before he had to leave. Quickly I learned that he despises piled up attention.

After he was mostly ready, I approached him. My hand reached out to his side, and as soon as I made contact, he turned around and grabbed my hands. He brought up one to lovingly kiss, and the other to guide me through the hallway and into the main room.

He let me go to get a few more things before heading out of the door. I braced myself for his expected exit, reminding myself that there was a good chance he would return. His job wasn't exactly easy, but it wasn't too dangerous for him either.

I sat down at the table nearby the door, fumbling with the things placed on it. I looked up every once in a while to be more alert when he chose to walk by that door and tell me a disheartened goodbye, just like he did every morning.

Once he did come by me, I slightly moved toward him and chirped, "Forgetting anything?"

His eyebrow raised at me at first, but then he returned to his normal demeanor. He grabbed my hand, bringing me up to approximately his height, and he kissed me on the lips, _passionately_.

His hands were gripping my hair, and I felt my heart skip twenty beats.  _That couldn't have been good_. Didn't matter. He was now holding me and kissing me just as passionately, and after a few moments, he split from me and smiled at me innocently like he hadn't just aggressively grabbed my hair and pulled me toward him.

My cheeks were rosy at that point. I tried not to stumble over my words, but the preparation wasn't completely successful.

"I meant these, but t-thank you..."

I lifted my other hand to show him the jangling keys that I held, tampered from the anxiety flowing through my fingers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this came out pretty short, I'm sorry !! but I hope you loved it :^)


	4. Ace Visconti

_requested by:_ OhMyViolet

*************************************

“I’m getting this thing going,” a black-haired girl muttered, turning her head briefly to look at the others nearby. “Meg, can you help me please? You too, Ace?” Her eyelashes fluttered with hope as she flicked her gaze back to the generator. Her hands ached just like the rest of her body, but she continued working on the wires. Her will to survive overpowered any exhaustion.

“Yeah, give me a second, Feng,” Meg responded, dropping a first aid kit to her right. “We can use that if we get hurt.” They sought out no response, so the two kept working on the generator. Feng kept swiveling around periodically to check on Ace, wondering if he would listen and come help the two women. He seemed to be preoccupied, but they didn’t know what by.

“You seem hurt pretty bad there, girl,” Ace exhaled, reaching out an arm to the injured girl in front of him. She was in shambles: her ankle seemed to be broken, she had cuts littering the open skin on her arms and legs, and tears were streaming down her face. At first, she flinched at Ace, but eventually let him grab her softly and pull her toward him.

“What’s your name?” he murmured sweetly, trying to calm her down as he grabbed his own first aid kit from beside him and opened it up. He grabbed gauze, wipes, disinfectant, and a bandage for her ankle. He began to rub the disinfectant and the wipes on her cuts, grabbing her hand as she whimpered. He knew it stung, but he did what he had to.

He moved on to placing gauze on her cuts, taping them to the skin as gentle as he could. “I’m taking care of you,” he reassured her, wrapping the bandage around her ankle to stabilize it and prevent it from breaking even worse. Finally, he wiped the tears off of her face, his hand still encasing hers. She sniffled - he had successfully calmed her down.

“Violet,” she heaved, getting to her feet as he helped her up. “Violet is my name.”

“Okay, Violet,” he sighed, allowing her to grab onto him for balance. She was embarrassed to, yet he did not notice. “I’m Ace. I got you, okay?” He kept muttering to her, trying to make her feel safe and comfortable as they approached the two women on the generator.

“I’m here now,” Ace told the girls. “Violet here, she’s hurt pretty badly, I don’t know if she should help us. I think she should stay near, rest, and we’ll protect her if we’re found.” He laid out the plan.  _ Man _ was he good at negotiating.

The three continued to start the generator. Ace kept checking up on Violet, his eye never fully off of her. She liked the protectiveness he harbored; it calmed her much more than she would have liked to admit. Maybe she was so fond of him because he rushed to help her up when she had fallen; however, that didn’t explain why  _ he  _ was so fond of  _ her. _

“How are you feeling, Violet?” Ace hummed, his eyes still on the generator this time. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything at the moment, so she hummed sweetly in response. Ace felt his cheeks heat up, and he smiled to himself at how adorable he thought her reply was. Meg seemed to catch onto his reaction, and she leaned over to nudge him playfully.

“Crush, huh?” Meg was surely cockier than she needed to be. She was the relief of the group in the trial, and none of them hated it. Ace looked up at her and rolled his eyes, chuckling under his breath.

Violet crawled over to Ace, her ankle still useless. She tapped him on the back a few times, causing him to turn around and tilt his head in question of what she wanted. A smile pursued her face, and she reached out her least-fucked-up arm to hold his hand again.

She had already felt relaxed after being helped, but when she held his hand again, she felt right at home.

“How cute,” he murmured softly.

A few moments of silence followed, but silence would not last forever. An interruption was present. “Hey, everyone…” Feng trailed off with a sense of terror lingering in her speech, catching everyone’s attention but Ace’s, who was too occupied with thinking about and staring at Violet to care. Feng briskly pointed behind Meg - to Feng’s left, Ace and Violet’s right - where a tall man stood in place. He wore dark blue coveralls, and his hand wrapped tightly around one large, bloody knife. The knife was stained with Violet’s dried blood.

“He’s… right there.” He began to stalk toward them, his eyes stuck on Violet. He had been targeting her all because she was the first to catch his eye in the trial, and now he was intent on catching her first. Feng and Meg darted in the same direction, taking cover in the trees, leaving Ace to protect his damsel in distress. He didn’t mind doing that, though.

As the killer ambled eerily toward them, Ace grabbed Violet hard by her sides and pushed her farther from him. “Go in that bush and hide; I’ll distract him so he can’t see where you’re going, okay?” he whispered, a pang of fear present in his shaky voice. Violet nodded, limping her way over to a dark area with brush everywhere, and she crouched behind a large bush as she watched Ace scream at their attacker.

She hoped he would get out of the sticky situation he had positioned himself in.

The killer raised his knife in front of Ace. The air between them was but a hair long, and Ace braced himself for the blow he would have to suffer, sacrificing himself for Violet’s survival.

Out of nowhere, Meg darted out and distracted the killer enough to allow Ace’s escape. The killer began chasing Meg, who began to audibly taunt him. No one expected much less from Meg. 

Ace paced his way over to Violet, bringing her into his arms. “Hey, I’m okay,” he reassuringly muttered. “I’m right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i hope you really liked this one. i really don't know a lot about ace, and at some points in this, i felt as if i was writing too much filler - but i hope you enjoy it, nonetheless. it's a process for me to write, and sometimes it's stressful, but i love doing it anyway.
> 
> next one is dwight, and i'm going to start writing that one today. keep requesting!! i love it!!


	5. Dwight Fairfield

_ requested by _ : monomon

*******************************

The overwhelming heartbeat progressively got louder, sending a signal to the two people on a generator by the exit gate to either stay and dedicate themselves to something that might get them killed or leave and have someone else finish it. The male on the generator, Dwight, let out a raspy groan and crawled behind some brush to view the killer as it approached the generator. The female survivor, Mila, had stayed on the generator for a few seconds longer before huddling behind a wall, gazing at the killer the way Dwight was.

After staring at it for much too long, the killer decided to kick the generator in hopes of loosening and breaking some wires. It seemed near ineffective, but the killer waddled off shortly after, and following was Dwight and Mila, putting wires together to finish the generator almost right in front of the killer’s face.

However, the distance between the generator and the killer was much too large, and the two had plenty of time to get out. Mila began opening the door right next to the generator that they had finished just moments before, and Dwight started to freak out more as the heartbeat grew louder. Mila assured him that the door would be well and opened by the time the killer got to them. “Our scent would be long gone” was her choice of words.

“Go out that door, and I’m going to go save Nea. She seems to have been found. I doubt she’ll be downed by the time I get there, but I’m going just to make sure. Get out, okay?” Mila ordered, a glance of hope present in her shiny eyes. Dwight could not stop staring into them, no matter how hard he tried, and he had not considered a word she had said until she was long gone. 

In his sights, the killer, Nea, and Mila were all present. The other person had survived, seemingly opening the other exit gate and leaving without a trace. Dwight slowly walked toward the exit, his head resting on his shoulder to gaze at his two friends being chased around by a deranged doctor. He was scared to his core, but Mila screamed something inaudible to Nea, and Nea started to dart toward the door that Dwight was at.

“Let’s go,” Nea barked, grabbing Dwight’s arm forcefully and walking him through the exit to land themselves at a campfire. Their “long-lost” teammate, Kate, was sitting nearby the fire, her fingers strumming the guitar that she cradled so close to her heart. Nea smiled, sitting next to the songbird, as Dwight bit his fingernail in anticipation, wondering when Mila would show up.

After a few suspenseful moments, Mila was running out of the exit, a deep gash spread across her stomach. She had not lost as much blood as one would expect, but she was breathing heavily as she limped her way over to the campfire. She sat next to Dwight, trying to catch her breath because she knew the others would most likely force her to tell about how she let herself get hurt during the trial.

“Oh, you’re hurt,” Dwight whimpered. “Kate, Nea, do you have medkits or anything? Mila’s hurt really bad.” Kate and Nea shared a look before Nea reached down and grabbed her medkit. She handed it to Dwight, smiling as she watched him pick it up and try to bandage Mila up.

“I’m alright,” Mila coughed heavily. “No, Dwight, I mean it, I’m fine.” She batted at the medkit, causing Dwight to pull his arm back and put the medkit down, a frown on his face. Nea began to sing along with Kate, their voices becoming louder, but they were not terrible singers. Kate was a given wonderful singer, but in fact, Nea was quite the songbird herself.

Dwight wrapped one of his arms around Mila. “Hey,” he whispered in a deep, relaxing tone, “you don’t look fine. Let me patch you up, Mila.” Butterflies danced joyfully in his stomach, causing him to become slightly lightheaded for a few moments. He grabbed the medkit he had dropped and began to patch Mila up, the bandage reaching from under her chest to the side of her belly button. When he finished, he reached over to scratch gently at her side and smiled at her.

“Hey!” she laughed, pushing his hand off of her side. “Don’t do that!” Her voice was riddled with pain, but joy had taken over to become the majority. Laughter plagued her sentences, almost not allowing her to finish them. Dwight laughed along with her, and Nea and Kate stopped singing to stare at the two survivors who had began flirting with each other. One of them was the last person they would expect to flirt with anyone, but there was always a first for everything.

“Ticklish, huh?” Dwight teased, a red haze brimming the skin of his cheeks. Mila playfully pushed Dwight, rolling her eyes in disbelief as he kept attempting to reach over and tickle her more. The entire trial was riddled with stoic Mila, ordering the best for the four of them and refusing to break character until the moment she had been tickled after the trial. This was quite possibly the first instance that Dwight had seen Mila laugh - or show any emotion, for that matter - and he  _ loved  _ how it felt.

Mila felt vulnerable when she laughed, but she saw how happy it made Dwight, and she forgot to regret being vulnerable. She felt happy  _ with  _ Dwight, their laughter infecting the air with merry feelings. Kate and Nea turned to each other, laughing amongst themselves, and just like that, all four survivors had survived to laugh together around a warm campfire. Nea was injured, but she could easily heal herself, and she was quite used to scratches and bruises, considering how she spent her childhood growing up on the streets. Kate was the slightest bit affected by the shock of the trial, but having the opportunity to sing and strum her lovely guitar calmed her down enough to forget everything that had happened. Dwight had spent the entire trial on edge, scared for his friends, but he surely thought it was worth it to end up here.

Mila had been the most affected. Having to be the leader of the group, barking orders at everyone, and keeping calm throughout every issue was a very hard task to maintain while being chased by a crazed killer instructed to sacrifice the meat it was given, but she happened to do so anyway. This was her reward: sitting with her friends, laughing with them, and finally ending her stoic demeanor for the time being.

After a few moments of sheer laughter, Dwight blinked, bracing himself for his next move. His eyes stared directly into Mila’s, and after forgetting to consider the consequences, Dwight leaned in. He pressed his lips to hers, and the two shared an intimate kiss in front of Kate and Nea, who were both equally loving it. They were both entertained by the idea of making fun of the two, but they were also happy for them.

“You’re really cute, Mila.”

“Hey,” Mila responded softly, causing Dwight to almost stumble over his words. Before she said anything else, she leaned in again and kissed Dwight, their cheeks reflecting each other’s as they heated up. Dwight’s hand relocated to Mila’s cheek, and her arms wrapped around his neck, on top of his shoulders. She smiled briskly as their lips split.

“I think you’re cute too, Dwight… just not when you tickle me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was extremely fun to write, and although i felt like i was a bit dry with some of the descriptions, i'm pretty happy with the end result. i hope you enjoy it! sorry about naming her mila, the requester had not given me a name to go by, so i used the first name i thought of. otherwise, i hope you enjoyed!


	6. Anna | The Huntress

requested by: NXTeternal

*******************************************

A yawn cascaded against the walls that surrounded Nathaniel. His eyes were barely open as he let out a raspy sigh, stretching his limbs. He blinked a few times to ground himself in prevention of falling asleep. His head wanted to do nothing but tilt over and lull him back to sleep, but he wanted today to be a productive day, even if he was distracted at some point. Another yawn escaped his lips as his feet hit the ground with a soft thump. He ambled to his bathroom, grabbing clothes from his closet before throwing them in the bathroom to change. Nathaniel took a deep breath before rotating the shower knob a full 180 degrees. The sound of water on the bathtub floor calmed him and woke him up at the same time as he prepared to hop into the warm shower.

After getting used to the water and its temperature, Nathaniel began to hum softly. His voice reflected nicely off of the walls, barely omitting any sound from the other side of the bathroom door. He continued to hum, not realizing that the bathroom door was slowly being opened, and an extremely tall woman with a paper rabbit mask walked into the room.  
“Oh,” he jolted, alarmed but recovered, “Anna, you scared me.” A smile crept across her face as she approached him. She started to hum the same tune he had been humming, and the two began to hum together, their voices harmonizing and bouncing off of the walls.

After a few more minutes, Nathaniel turned the shower knob and got out of the shower, standing on the floor mat. He began to dry himself off, and then he began to dress as Anna stood right next to him, playing with the items on the sink counter.  
As soon as he was fully dressed, Anna forcefully grabbed his hand and opened the door, still humming as she led him out to the main area in their small, secluded, middle-of-nowhere cabin. He smiled as she sat down and patted the place next to her, beckoning him to come sit with her. He obeyed, but first, he grabbed the edges of her paper mask and pulled the mask off of her slowly and gently. A grin positioned itself on Nathaniel’s face when her face was revealed. He liked her mask just as much as she did, but he loved to see her face much more. She had realized that quickly, but she still chose to wear her mask at times.

“You’re such a cutie, Anna.” He planted a petite kiss on her cheek before finally sitting next to her, resting his head on her shoulder. “Did you sleep well? I saw you got out of bed before I woke up.” He stared at her when he closed his mouth, awaiting an answer.

“Yes,” she replied. It was surely an answer; maybe not a long one, but one nonetheless. She was usually straightforward with her words; Nathaniel loved that about her. Sometimes, her words would only confuse him more, however, but most of the time, they were easy to understand and got straight to the point.

“But you did leave me in bed by myself,” he mumbled softly, trying to poke fun with her. It was morning indeed, but it seemed that she had been awake for much longer than Nathaniel. Plus, it was surely a way to wake up: joking around with the one person one cherished.

“I’m sorry,” Anna muttered in response, looking over at Nathaniel. She almost attempted to hide her face, but Nathaniel smiled at her reassuringly, and she put her hands back down. After a few moments of silent but loving staring, Nathaniel grabbed her hand gently and slowly led her into their bedroom. He pointed to the bed, and naturally, Anna got in the sheets. She liked the warm feeling; she was only used to Siberian winters, and now that Nathaniel used most of his money to keep her fed and warm with no hassle, she felt spoiled. It almost felt like a mistake for her to be cared for in such a way.

“Let’s lay down for a bit,” he hummed, wrapping Anna’s arms around his frame. He was much smaller than her - well, everyone was smaller than Anna - and he had not had any regrets about being smaller. He actually preferred to be cuddled that way, especially with Anna. He could not wrap his arms very far around her, but he liked for her to do that to him. It was a mutual, safe, warm feeling.

Anna began to hum the same song again, her waves of lullaby softly penetrating his ears. Her voice was so quiet at this point that it was almost a whisper, and she brought up a hand to play with Nathaniel’s hair. She rubbed it generously, causing him to feel such an emotion that he guessed it was what cats felt right before they purred. This felt amazing.

Nathaniel let her continue playing with his hair as he slipped in and out of sleep. She kept humming, aware that he was close to falling asleep entirely. Her song radiated such lovely, assuring energy to him, and it was easily one of the best things about being with Anna.

She repositioned her other hand, slowly moving it to his hip to avoid alerting him. He was still awake - barely, though - as she fingered through his hair and caused him to be immobile because of how satisfying she was making this experience for him. ‘Why move when your large girlfriend is petting your hair and holding you down with the weakest grip in the world?’ were Nathaniel’s thoughts, most likely.

However, it was quite hard for him to think at all because after constant coddling, he was exhausted enough to evaporate into sleep. Sparkling dreams now filled his thoughts uncontrollably, and Anna knew he was asleep as soon as it happened. She positioned her head on his shoulder, ending her soft lullaby to let herself fall asleep as well.

Her eyelids quickly became heavy, and in no time at all was Anna asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was actually really exciting to write, and i loved using descriptions to show warm coddling (because i sure need that right about now)


	7. Jake Park/Quentin Smith

_ requested by:  _ HelmetParty

*************************

The overhead noise of the Entity’s whispers frightened all of the survivors. They had woken up together in a heap of fearful drowsiness. The killer was trudging about on the other side of the realm, his fire fueled by the Entity’s whispers. He gripped the bear trap in his hand aggressively, growling under his breath. He was preparing to venture out and find his prey.

The patter of shoes on the muddy terrain alerted anyone nearby, so all four of the survivors were to trudge carefully. The killer had not cared one bit about the noise emitted by his shoes, although it would surely distract him from any real noises. However smart he was, the killer did not care about the analytical side; he liked to make quick decisions, and that was it.

“Where are we?” asked one of the survivors hoarsely, their voice quivering with their fear of the unknown. Their hair was a mess: brown, curly locks of hair hidden under a gray beanie. Bags rested under his soft blue eyes, and he was scrawny. He wore a tattered shirt with a light jacket on it, and on his chest rested a cross necklace.

“I don’t know, but as soon as I find the guy that put us here, he’s going down.” The voice was of a well-built man, cracks on his knuckles and a scar over his eye. “What’s your name, kid? And you both, too, what are your names?” His voice was unintentionally aggressive, and the sleepy boy was quite intimidated by him.

“I’m Quentin,” the sleepy one named himself, taking a deep breath of distress. “And who are you?”

“I’m David.”

“I’m Adam,” a well-dressed man approached, wearing a light-colored trench coat and a frightened expression.

“Jake,” the fourth one muttered angrily, “call me Jake.” He was to their left, his hands buried inside a generator, combining the broken wires. He figured this was there for a reason, so he began working on it, and he encouraged the others to join him.

Adam crawled his way over to the generator, carefully observing it. “Have you checked it? Couldn’t it shock you? Do you have no sense of safety?” he questioned Jake, the pitch in his voice signifying strong fear. Jake looked over at the school teacher and shrugged his shoulders before turning back to the generator.

“Haven’t gotten hurt yet.”

David snickered at Jake’s comment and joined him on the generator. “This is our way out, huh?” he asked, following Jake’s movements to learn how to combine the wires. He never liked to mess with electricity - fists over fingers - but doing this task was not terribly hard.

Adam finally joined the two men on the generator, but the fourth survivor laid behind them, his eyes reflecting fear. It appeared as if he was staring off into the distance, yet he saw right through the obstacle he was looking at. It appeared as if he was staring into a completely different dimension. As well as being spaced out, he was unresponsive, so when David tried to nudge him out of his catatonic trance, he did not move.

“What’s going on with him?” Jake asked, biting his lip in anticipation. David said nothing in response and shrugged, crawling back over to the generator. Adam tried to keep himself from glancing over at Quentin, and he did that successfully, continuing to work on the generator with David. Jake leaned off of the generator to help the lost boy.

“Hey,” he reassuringly whispered, “you okay?” He reached out a hand, and finally, Quentin’s senses snapped back to reality. He flinched at first, but then he grabbed Jake’s hand and let him lead him to the generator. No more spots were available other than the one Jake left, and Jake knew better than to leave this one alone. 

Jake pointed over a generator that he spotted, and Quentin followed him slowly. He was still wary of his surroundings, but still scared like a lost puppy, and Jake was happy to lend him the guidance he had earned from running away from his family so long ago. He had to learn how to be a leader because he was all he had, and it had been that way for quite a while. Even now, he refused to give up his leader tendencies, and Quentin needed nothing else right now.

The two got on the generator that Jake had led them to, and Quentin felt his heart calm down progressively. Jake kept using his sweet words, whispering them quietly to avoid alerting anyone. As well as not alerting anyone, it seemed to calm Quentin down faster, and Jake started to realize that as he kept speaking.

The patter of hardened steps neared closer to a generator. The heavy breathing radiated from behind the mask, sending a chill down Adam’s spine. “David,” he whispered urgently, “don’t you hear that?” His voice quivered with anxiety, and he felt his heart race as the breathing got louder, feeling as if it was crawling down Adam’s back.

“Yeah, and I don’t care.” David stayed near the generator, and Adam began to run the other way. The breathing got as loud as it could, and it began to follow Adam. The anxiety was too much for Adam, and the fact that he ran as soon as he heard the breathing, it alerted the killer far too easily, and now, he was being chased with bloodlust.

He kept running straight, his mind focused on nothing but running as fast and as far from his pursuer as possible. He almost saw nothing as his mind fixated on the hill in front of him, and he began to stare into the same dimension that Quentin had been focused on before. He kept running until he reached the generator that Jake and Quentin were fixing, and the killer left Adam momentarily to go for the two.

Jake began running, his lungs almost not strong enough to withhold his screams of direction for Quentin. “Left! Quentin!” His scream faded out throughout his teammate’s name, and he could not scream for him anymore. Jake had no other choice but to dart off in the other direction, and the killer chose to follow Quentin, stalking behind him quickly with a brutal gleam in his eye. 

“No!” Quentin screamed, finally finding his voice since introducing himself. His legs took him farther than he expected, but he tripped over a small branch, and he was on the ground with the killer staring directly at his limp body, having given up after losing his footing.

The killer aggressively narrowed his eyes, and with a low growl, he raised his cleaver and brought it down with hellish power on Quentin’s back. He cried out in agony, attempting to crawl away, but the killer would not let him leave. Quentin held his breath as the killer lifted his cleaver one more time.

“I don’t think so, buddy!” David screeched, his fists pummeling into the killer’s back. “Come on, you want some of me?” he taunted, beckoning the killer to follow him. That he did, and David ran the other direction in a spiral of adrenaline and laughter. He liked this rush that he got from being chased, but he would not like it when he was beat to death with a cleaver.

Jake slowly made his way over to Quentin, aware of every single item moving in his radius. He would not let Quentin die there. He crawled over to him, whispering sweet assurances into his ears as he patched him up, calming him down again. Jake did that very well, and Quentin was starting to feel a connection because of it. Jake was always charismatic, but never this charismatic without a certain feeling inside, evoking his charm to erupt from his core.

“It’s alright, I promise,” Jake assured, murmuring all of his cheap reassuring lines and regurgitating them back up to Quentin. Although he knew that he had already said this loads before, it still gave Quentin some form of hope. The feeling of being bandaged up urgently but carefully by Jake filled Quentin with an unexplainable and strong warmth. 

“Are you sure?” Quentin asked, a sharp tone of fear present in his voice. It was raspy, almost inaudible, but whatever words he managed to choke out with a tinge of blood, Jake could understand. 

“Yes, Quentin, I promise.” His voice was progressively softening while speaking to Quentin, and Jake feared that he had found himself in another tight situation. He definitely knew now that he had a specific attraction to Quentin ever since he first saw him in this trial, but he did not expect it to go far. Right now, however, while reassuring and calming him down, Jake’s feelings ran more rampant than ever before.

Jake looked deeply into Quentin’s eyes, falling awkwardly silent for a few seconds. He kept leaning in closer and closer before his lips met with Quentin’s, and for a moment, the trial felt like it had ended a long time ago. All of their trauma, all of their grievances, all of their exhaustion, all of their hopelessness had evaporated into the mist. It quickly rushed back onto them once their lips separated, but for the moment that they had kissed, all of their issues had left. It was like momentary paradise, and the two of them did not want to let that go.

The two kept pressing their lips to each other, eager to prevent more issues, not even stopping to be aware of their surroundings. In the background, they heard the churn of the exit gate opening, and Jake quickly grabbed Quentin’s hand, leading him to the direction of the three bright red lights. 

Jake kissed Quentin one final time before the two of them ran out of the trial towards the campfire. As they did, Jake whispered one last vow to Quentin.

“I’d never lie to you, I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was surely a long one compared to my other works! i actually had quite a bit of fun and relaxation while writing it. it wasn't completely rushed, and i felt like i had enough room to write it at my own pace, and look how it turned out. i've actually recently become friends with helmetparty, and they're a great person. shoutout helmetparty, yeeeah :)


	8. Michael Myers

_ requested by:  _ me

*******************************

The sun hid behind the horizon, ready to spring whenever the day was set to start. It hid behind miles of dirt, grass, trees, and water: everything one would think of when hearing the word “nature”. When the sun arose, it would glisten the trees, the water, and all other gorgeous pieces of nature with a shimmer of light yellow. The sun painted the sky a beautiful color of pink in the morning and in the evening. It brightened the day that most people wished for; the “tomorrow” that everyone spoke of.

Charlie yawned, stretching her limbs far past her tousled dark hair. Her eyes reluctantly opened, and she could make out the ceiling with her blurry vision. She leaned to the side, pressing the side button on her phone to check the time. “5:27 am,” the clock read.

She took a deep breath and rolled out of bed, stretching her back and neck. Her white shirt fell neatly off of her right shoulder, and her shorts were black with white lines striped in certain places. She adjusted her shirt, sleepily walking out of the room and into the kitchen.

Brown stools sat near a small, long table next to the opening of the kitchen. Charlie sat down on one of the stools and rubbed her eyes, placing her head in her hands. Waking up was the hardest task of the morning, and no matter how many times she did it, she still could not get used to it. The reason that she was waking up was the deciding factor in whether it was easier or harder to get out of bed.

This morning, it was much easier to wake up as soon as she realized why she was. A cute smile spread across her face. Only the thought of her reasoning could have successfully both cheered her up and woken her up. This morning was one of the best mornings, and she knew that from the second her conscience activated.

Charlie fingered through her hair, starting to hum as she cruised through her house. A smirk formed on her face as she continued humming joyfully. The sun was still hiding behind the horizon, fearful to come out for another day, but Charlie had already felt her rush of dopamine.

After washing her hands as usual, Charlie ambled into the kitchen. She grabbed various items from the kitchen counters, including flour, sugar, baking powder, milk, butter, vanilla, and eggs. She yawned while combining the dry ingredients. Leaning on the counter as she stirred the ingredients together, Charlie stopped humming. 

She leaned over the counter, plugging in her waffle iron and turning it on. She combined wet and dry ingredients and continued stirring, the mixture blending together sweetly. The smell wafting from the ingredients satisfied Charlie. A slight tinge of vanilla was present. As she poured the batter into the waffle iron, she smiled yet again.

After the first waffle finished, Charlie brought it up out of the iron and placed it on a plate. The same process filled the waffle iron again, and Charlie walked into the main room of the house to grab her speaker. Then, she made a quick stop to her bedroom, and she grabbed her phone from her wobbly bedside table.

Music began to softly erupt from the speaker, the volume just right: not too loud, not too quiet. Charlie began to steadily rotate with the rhythm of the music. The song playing was one of her favorites, and she could never miss an opportunity to dance to it, even if it was an embarrassing, half-assed attempt at dancing.

After a few moments of switching out finished waffles and waffle batter and slightly dancing to her music, Charlie noticed ambient breathing behind her. She stopped dancing and turned around to notice Michael, and she immediately felt her expression turn to content with a smile on top. Michael’s face was usually expressionless, but he had a gleam in his eye and a pattern to his breathing that showed Charlie that he was just as happy to see her as she was to see him.

“Hi, cutie,” she softly whispered, reaching out to lovingly rub at his cheek. She watched as he grabbed her sides and gently twisted her around, his hands still clinging protectively to her sides. His head slipped in between hers and her shoulder, and a certain look in his eye told her that he wanted her to keep dancing. 

It took her a few moments to realize what he wanted, but when she did, she instantly started again. Michael refused to let go, his hands hard on her hips as she felt more into the dancing. At first, she was nervous and barely moving, but now she was into it; she was vibing in the rhythm that Michael’s body made, even if he wasn’t moving very much. His instincts had caused him to move, and he was pressed up against her as she continued to dance.

His breathing deepened, progressively loudening as well as Charlie continued to dance. She stopped for a few moments to switch out the last waffle, and on two plates laid a total of four waffles: two for each. Michael huffed impatiently as she finished topping the waffles, and she placed them on the dining table surrounded by the stools.

As soon as the plates were placed, Michael grabbed onto her hips again forcefully, pulling her back into his embrace. Charlie brushed the hair out of her face and arched her back, aware that she was teasing him much more than she needed to. He did not seem to mind, however, but he felt a surge of energy, and he pressed himself up against her again. She enjoyed the morning rush of adrenaline.

She continued to dance, swaying in the rhythm that still lingered from the harmony of their parallel bodies. Michael felt the same rush of adrenaline pulsate through his veins, and he grabbed her hand aggressively, pulling her towards him. She looked up at him with a devious gleam in her eye and a smirk spread across her face; the face that Michael loved. He did not love much, but seeing Charlie’s face in the morning - or after a long split because of needs - brightened Michael’s day when he did not even understand how. Anything about Charlie made Michael extremely happy - something he was not used to - but he loved it.

Michael grunted, leading Charlie into their bedroom. He gently pushed her onto the bed and a smirk laid across her face as he toppled her, his hands finding their way to her sides again.

“I can’t dance when I’m on our bed, Michael,” she teased. He let out a low growl before pressing his lips to hers. After being with her for a while, Michael’s movements became more jagged, his impulses increased, he earned more control, and he had quickened his movements. He was now more analytical and thought through what he did, and when he powered over Charlie, he was aware of what crossed the line and what did not.

Charlie loved that about him. He adapted quite quickly. He still never spoke a word, but Charlie did not mind it at all. She found it endearing that he had adapted so well to showing her how he felt without speaking, and she liked the tranquil moments of silence that they shared. 

“Michael,” she whispered, causing him to break apart from her. His blue eyes stared into hers, and her smirk immediately turned into a soft smile. “I love you.”

He said nothing, but a certain look that he was giving her and the fact that he had kissed her again made her think that he felt the exact same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was extremely fun to write, wanna guess why?
> 
> it was nice to sit back and not be pressured for a deadline on this c: also i have one brain cell and i used all of my energy to revise this so if there are still errors in it, i'm sorry lmao this is not serious writing and i have half a brain cell now


	9. Michael Myers/Quentin Smith

_ requested by:  _ FreelancerRiley

*******************************

The rain pattered hard on the muddy floor of the area. A tiny cabin sat in the middle of the realm, hosting a small fire in the fireplace. Candles littered throughout the dwelling, and while inside of the cabin, the pouring rain turned into a soft drip. The rain had blessed the forest floor, producing a strong smell of petrichor that hovered in the damp air. 

The fireplace emitted a sound that reminded Laurie of the campfire she had just found herself around before passing out yet again and waking up on the wet forest floor with grass and mud stuck to her clothes. This time, she was cold, exhausted, frightened, but determined; determined to get out of the place she had found herself in. Her first objective would be to at least get back to the campfire, and then she could strategize about leaving the realm entirely.

Next to her laid a quiet boy, snoring so quietly and so softly that Laurie could not notice it unless she paid attention. His hair was tousled and dark, captured under a fluffy gray beanie. His eyes were shut tight, signaling that it would not be so easy to wake him, and Laurie thought for a moment that she was not the only one with this struggle.

“Wake up,” she murmured, gently rocking him. He was still enveloped in his drowsy trance, and Laurie attempted to shake him harder before giving up for a few moments to hypothesize. She wondered if what she was seeing was truly real or not, and for a moment, she stopped believing.

What returned her back to believing in the boy in front of her was the fact that he had lifted his head up and blinked sleepily, barely able to keep his eyes open. His arms were wobbly as he tried to hold himself up, and Laurie stabilized him before he was fully awake. Once he was, he sat right next to Laurie, and he was just as confused as her.

“Where are we?” he hoarsely shrieked, feeling the undeniable fear rise up his throat and threaten to suffocate him. He kept swallowing to keep it down, yet it still dared to rise and take control of his body. He did not want to let that happen; he did not give up  _ that  _ easily.

“I have no idea. Do you remember being at a campfire before you woke up by any chance?” Laurie muttered back, keeping her voice low in fear of an attacker. If there was an attacker looking for her or them in the same realm, they would be in serious trouble. No one was strong enough to fight back: their bones were brittle, they had little to no energy left inside of them, and worst of all, they had no knowledge on the place they were. Being clueless pulsated a larger amount of fear into their veins, and that  _ could _ give them a rush of adrenaline, but it usually only caused them to overflow with energy and crash.

“I think so,” the boy murmured, searching the ground for any of his belongings or anything laid for him to grab. “Hey, my name’s Quentin. Call me whatever nickname you want.” After finding his voice, Quentin felt slightly more comfortable. Knowing the sure fact that he was not alone helped him out a lot in situations like these; although, he did not face off against something in a different realm too often.

“Alright, Quentin,” Laurie responded, “call me Laurie.” Her eyes shimmered with hope, the feeling arising for the same reason it did for Quentin: they were not alone. Fighting tragedies and issues were awful, but fighting them alone was even worse. Even if the two victims had not known each other beforehand, they felt a sense of security nearby each other. Laurie would fight for herself and Quentin; Quentin would fight for himself and Laurie.

“Do you think that, uh, chest has anything useful in it?” Quentin rubbed his eyes and pointed towards a small wooden box brushing up against thick bushes. Laurie’s line of sight snapped up to face the chest, and the two of them observed it carefully. It could save their life, but it could also end it. Cluelessness would ruin them, and so would impulses.

“It shouldn’t hurt to check.” Laurie stumbled over to the chest, feeling a burst of pain shoot up her frame. She whimpered in agony for a second before forcing the lid of the chest open, and she rummaged through the various useless items before finding one she considered quite useful.

“Is that a first aid kit?” Quentin’s voice rattled with surprise. Whatever Laurie had just found was a gift to the two, and another spark of hope ignited in their bodies. Laurie turned her head to look at Quentin, and with a large smile on her face, she nodded.

“Are you hurt at all? I mean, I don’t really feel hurt anywhere at the moment, other than a headache. We can save that kit for later, can’t we?” In response to Quentin, Laurie nodded once again.

“I’m not hurt on the outside. Just a bit of pressure on my legs and back, but there’s nothing I can do about that right now. We’ll save it.” Laurie liked to rationalize. She stopped making decisions quickly based on her impulses, and she liked to consider all possible options. In a situation like she had just found herself in, she did not know all possible options, and a small bit of hope contributed to what she leaned towards, but she still could critically analyze, just like she did with everything else.

Quentin would have liked to admit that he rationalized far more than jumped to conclusions. He knew that it was a bad thing to use impulses as decision making tools, but he usually had no other choice. He had no real experience to teach him what to do in dire situations, and because of that, he did not learn any lessons about analyzing a situation and impulsively rushing through it.

Laurie, however, was ready to teach Quentin everything he missed out on knowing before.

“What’s on the ground over there?” Laurie noticed a small gray box, triangle-shaped on top with a rectangular base. Quentin shrugged his shoulders and crawled over to the item in question, and he discovered that it was a toolbox.

“I think it’s a toolbox. What do we need that for?” he muttered, halfway to himself and halfway to Laurie. She came closer to the toolbox, inspecting it with her keen eye and her determined senses. After grabbing it from in front of Quentin, he made a small noise but retracted it instantly when he realized she was walking away from him.

“Quentin, come here,” she beckoned. He did just as he was asked, and in front of the two perched a dirty generator with wires sticking out of the side and devious sparks all around it. Laurie inspected the generator a bit more than Quentin liked, and she rightfully called when Quentin took the toolbox from her and began using the tools on the generator wires.

“You don’t know what that does.” Her voice was sharp with a tinge of leadership.

“Helps us out, I’d think.” Laurie did not appreciate Quentin’s smart reply, but she decided to move on. She crouched down, placing her hands on the wires that stuck out from her side of the generator. She tested it first, combining the wires slightly to see what they would do, and when they did not shock her, she continued to work on fixing the generator.

“See? Not bad,” Quentin told her, his tone still a bit passive, but Laurie ignored it.

After a few minutes of repairing the broken generator, fear plagued Quentin’s voice as he attempted to warn Laurie. “Laurie,” he choked, “over there.”

Laurie’s vision snapped to where Quentin was pointing, and there stood one intimidating man, tightly gripping a knife in his hand. Laurie took a deep breath, understanding exactly who it was: her older brother.

“Run, Quentin!” Laurie screamed, pushing him forcefully in the opposite direction that she began running. She hoped that Michael would follow her instead of Quentin, but she knew that it was all up to fate; it always was up to fate. 

Laurie did not stop during running, and as her legs took her farther and farther, she periodically stared behind her to check on her pursuer. However, around the fourth time she had looked, he had left her. Now, he was in pursuit of Quentin. Laurie knew that fact deep down in her gut, and she was compelled to protect him with her life if she had to.

After realizing that the man was stalking after him now, Quentin let out a brisk shriek before throwing down a wooden slate. The slate separated him and his pursuer, and for a moment, he felt safe.

Not for long, however, because as soon as the man kicked the slate with determined strength, it broke easily and he was in pursuit of Quentin again. Quentin’s legs cycled quickly, tiring themselves out as well as him, but Quentin knew that it was nowhere near the time to stop.

He kept running, his breathing heavier as he continued on. Michael, still right on Quentin’s tracks, took a deep breath, preparing himself for the catch. Quentin dodged out of the way just as Michael leaped forward with his knife directly in front of him.

Michael kept chasing him, witnessing the long moments of weakness that Quentin was experiencing. Michael watched as his energy quickly evaporated, and he tripped over a branch that sent him falling down to the ground in a sputtering cry.

Leaning down, holding his knife behind his back, Michael grabbed the boy. He turned him over and grabbed him with a firm grasp of the shirt. Dragging Quentin towards the cabin, he let his breathing lower as he led him along the wet floor. Once they got to the cabin, Michael laid Quentin down on the floor and enforced one singular rule: do not leave.

Quentin obeyed, scared for his life, understanding the message that Michael had sent. After he expressed acknowledgment, Quentin watched as Michael walked out of the cabin with a slight, calm breathing pattern from behind his mask.

After a few minutes, Michael returned with something in his other hand behind his back. His left arm was visible, and in that hand he held a knife. His other arm was hidden behind his back, gripping onto something that he wanted to hide from Quentin for now.

Michael approached Quentin and rested his knife on the table nearby. He slowly moved his arm out from behind his back, and as soon as Quentin had a glimpse of what Michael was hiding for him, he audibly gasped.

In Michael’s hand were a group of damp, light blue flowers. He handed them to Quentin, and he felt his insides scramble around looking for a reason that explained why Michael would give him flowers of all things. Quentin suspected him to give him a knife through his chest, not beautiful flowers.

He took the gift, accepting whatever message Michael was trying to send. It became more clear to him as Michael sat right next to Quentin, his fingers beginning to thumb through Quentin’s wet and unkempt hair.  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have been super stressed out today, sorry if the quality of writing isn't too good, but here it is


	10. David King

_ requested by:  _ OhMyViolet

******************************************

Snow covered everything in the neighborhood. It suffocated the ground under too many layers of the fresh white powder. The air was filled with wisps of white ghosts emitted from the breath of misfortunate individuals; the ones that had to stay out in the snow, shivering and praying for a morsel of heat to seep into their large jackets and boots.

Violet let out a deep breath. It took a lot of energy to trudge through the snow. It was a soft powder, but when clumped up, it was stronger than a wall of stone. Her legs were worn out after pushing through the valiant white, and she stopped to catch her breath. She was as exasperated as she would be after jogging a mile, except this time, she had just enough energy to sniffle constantly.

At this point, she was used to the cold. She had now been in the snow outside for more than twenty minutes, and she felt nothing at the tip of her extremities. She was covered in sweaters and jackets, two beanies, two pairs of socks, and two pairs of leggings. Still, the cold managed to leak beneath her clothes, penetrating her already freezing skin. She decided to keep moving through, reassuring herself every couple of minutes that her situation  _ could  _ be worse.

Eventually, Violet stumbled upon a lively street. This street was quite familiar to her: it was where one of her friends, David, lived. After the cold had temporarily destroyed her extremities, Violet wanted to stop by David’s house and warm up inside for a few minutes before venturing home. She was not too far from her house, but a second longer and she felt like she would shatter into icy pieces of flesh.

She stepped onto the porch, observing the intricate glass pieced together to make his front door’s window. She knocked softly, still tranquilized by the artistic nature of his house. She had not been up close with this house; he had recently bought it, and the two were too busy to spend time together lately. However, now with the walk she had taken through the snow, she could see him briefly.

A few moments passed before David opened the door. When he did, a smile formed on Violet and David’s faces, and they brought each other into an embrace. Despite the extreme cold weather that grabbed the town by its throat, the two felt warm when in each other’s company. Maybe it was because of the distance they had to endure due to being busy, but whatever it was, it felt nice.

“Hey, Violet,” David greeted happily. Violet pulled away from him, her eyes creasing in response to her grin. “It’s been a minute since we last saw each other, eh?” 

“Yes, it has,” she chuckled, stepping into his warm house. Her body had a little jolt of energy when she felt the first rush of warmth flow into her clothing. David watched as she walked to his main room, sat on his couch, and laughed nervously as the warmth caused her extremities to tingle.

“I bet you’re freezing,” David sighed, his footsteps pattering on the floor as he entered his kitchen. Opening the cabinet, he grabbed a packet full of hot chocolate powder, and he filled up a cup with milk. 

“I’d say I am,” Violet replied, hearing him heat up the milk while preparing the hot chocolate. Her eyes slowly examined the room, admiring the new house that David had bought himself. She liked the mystic look of it; it had a cozy feel as well, and Violet was a sucker for houses like that.

David reappeared with a steaming mug in his hand. He sat it down on the table next to Violet. After setting it down, he reached out his arms and grabbed onto her hands. “Whoa,” he exclaimed, “your hands  _ are  _ freezing.”

Violet audibly laughed. “Yeah, I’ve been in the snow for like twenty minutes, what did you expect?” Her cheeks turned bright red, obviously from the cold outside, but a different reason had her cheeks an even bloodier red.

“Let me turn on the heater,” David exhaled, leaving Violet briefly to turn the heater on for her. He knew it was cold outside, but he had not realized that it was  _ that  _ cold. Even when he had been outside for a split second in Violet’s petite embrace, he never felt that it was too cold. Maybe he had built up a weather endurance, or maybe Violet’s embrace gifted him with the same nature-defying warmth it gave her.

“David,” she called, “you don’t have to turn it on for me, I should probably be leaving soon anyway.” Still humble, she grabbed the warm cup of hot chocolate to her left and pressed her lips to the edge of the cup. As soon as the liquid touched the back of her throat, she audibly mumbled in pleasure.

“Warm, huh?” David chuckled. “Hey, I’d rather you stay here than freeze to death out there. Don’t think about going home right now, it’s about thirty minutes away and I don’t want you freezing out there, girl.” He sat in the seat next to hers, his eyes panning over her with a certain look of contentment.

Violet decided to keep her mouth shut. She wrapped her arms around herself, hoping for some form of heat, but the attempt was unsuccessful. Therefore, she sat there in the chair, hot chocolate slowly warming her insides as she kept shivering. David knew that, and he got up shortly after watching her shake like a freezing puppy.

She watched as he retrieved a blanket from somewhere else in the house, and she sighed. “David,” she complained, “I promise, I’m okay. I just need a minute to warm up.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but something had cut her off.

The blanket was parallel to David’s arms, and as he wrapped the fuzzy blanket around her, he wrapped himself around her as well. In response, she moved over in the large seat and allowed enough room for him to sit next to her. His arms were still covering her freezing body, and she let her eyes close as she had entirely no issue with what situation she was currently in.

“Don’t worry about when or how you’re getting home,” he softly whispered into her ear, treating her as well as a lullaby would. “You’re safe here with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry that this took forever to write. i kept getting distracted and it's been a rough few days. however, i hope it was good enough! <3


	11. Michael Myers/Quentin Smith [part 2]

_requested by:_ FreelancerRiley

**************************************

Quentin’s eyes opened, the moonlight reflecting on his face in shards created by the window in the cabin. He had not realized he had fallen asleep, and now that he had awakened, he did not know when he fell asleep. Pausing to look around for a few moments, his eyes scanned the room for Michael, but he seemed to be absent.

He brought up a hand to rub his eyes. Steadying his breaths, Quentin lifted himself slightly from the uncomfortable position he fell asleep in. His neck ached; his hand massaged it carefully. His back was aligned with the cabin wall, and his legs were parallel to each other, stretched out in front of him.

Every little noise set him off. Each rustle in the soaked grass, each tap on a tree, each patter of a foot on the forest floor alerted him in the direction of the door, searching for a tall figure with a familiar mask on. He figured that he might as well wait until Michael returned - after all, he was the reason that Quentin was there - but Quentin did not want to admit that he genuinely missed Michael’s presence.

After about half an hour passed by, the figure that Quentin was searching for appeared in the door frame. His stature was frightening; his head almost reached the top of the door frame, and his breathing was heavy once again as he approached the boy. It became apparent to Michael that Quentin had fallen asleep yet again, and a sigh slipped out as he realized every time he returned, Quentin seemed to be asleep.

He decided he would sit around and wait for him to wake up. Sitting down at a table right next to the sleeping boy, Michael began to stare off into the distance out of the window. The scenery of the dwelling was astounding, even to him, and he felt himself get more comfortable as the soft wind and pattering rain brought him peace within.

Jolted out of his thoughts by a stirring Quentin, Michael turned around, his eyes set on the waking male. He rubbed his eyes, free from the crust that prevented him seeing his surroundings. Now that his vision was not blurry, Quentin could make out Michael’s shape. His eyebrows raised, and he remained in his place, waiting for Michael to approach him.

After a few seconds of silence, Michael began to walk toward him. Quentin looked up at him, his eyes flickering with overwhelming, quivering excitement. The rush of adrenaline had confused his conscience enough to cause him to forget all bad possibilities, and he was now only concerned with what Michael’s next move would be.

Michael lifted a hand, his finger tracing lines on Quentin’s face. Although surprised, Quentin was pleased with Michael’s choice. He felt calmed and comforted by the sudden affection from the silent one, and his mind flickered back to when he gave him the unexpected flowers.

“You want me to stay here in the cabin, don’t you?” Quentin whispered. He could notice a slight gleam in Michael’s eye that told him he was correct. “Well,” his voice flinched, “would you mind if I left, but I didn’t go too far from here?” He stumbled on his words frequently when addressing Michael, but he seemed to enjoy it enough to let Quentin have some freedom.

After Michael slowly nodded, Quentin felt his heart skip a beat. He lifted his heavy body up from his seating position, his eyes still on Michael, just in case a rush of aggression kicked into his system. Just as he did, Michael kept his eyes on Quentin as well, and the two were staring at each other as Quentin slowly moved out of the cabin and into the forest once again.

He kept his promise: he would not go far. The farthest he planned on going was just out of eyesight, and he did not even assume to go that far; Michael could possibly be upset with losing sight of him. He seemed to be extremely protective of him now, and although that made Quentin slightly uncomfortable, it calmed him at the same time.

Quentin placed his palm on a damp tree, his eyes searching his surroundings for any movement. Once he noticed a rustle in a bush to his right, he slowly approached it with eager eyes. Since he did not know that he shared the realm with people other than Laurie and Michael, he expected to see the familiar blonde girl hiding behind the bush. However, this one was dark haired, petite, and scared to death.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s just me,” he softly whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” Without realizing it, his voice had been a bit shaken up as well. Possibly, it was the energy in the system produced from being watched for so long; and maybe, the energy had finally got to him. Whatever it was, it prevented him from having enough energy to possess fear. He had barely enough energy left to speak.

“Feng,” she whimpered quietly. “Who are you?” A strong Chinese accent overtook her voice, helping Quentin learn yet another thing about her. At this point, he could have made a list: _scared, small, Chinese, named Feng, dark-haired._ He would not have minded learning more about her, but he had to find Laurie before Michael dragged him back to the cabin for being away for too long.

“My name is Quentin. I’m looking for a blonde-haired girl named Laurie,” he told Feng, “have you met her yet? Do you know where she went?” Despite being terrified of everything surrounding her, Feng seemed comfortable with Quentin already. She blinked at him curiously a few times, but then she placed her hand on a nearby rock and opened her mouth to speak.

“Yes, I know her. She went that way, toward that building over there. She left a little bit ago,” she directed. A spark of hope ignited in the core of his heart, and he looked over to where Feng pointed. A square-shaped building stood weakly tall, made out of splinters of wood and poor construction. However, the building did not look like it was going to fall anytime soon, so Quentin shrugged his shoulders and set off for the intriguing building.

“Be careful!” Feng called, louder than Quentin expected to hear from such a reserved soul, and he turned his head back one more time to nod at her reassuringly before he ran over to the building and hopped in the window.

He looked around, his slight dizziness increasing as he stood there. He tried to listen for any distinct sounds, but he heard nothing. A trail of stairs led down below the building, and he decided to riskily trudge down the dry steps to find anyone or anything underground. If he had a chance at finding Laurie, he was alright with taking the risk. She was the closest thing to him in the realm after they both woke up scared and clueless of their fate. Fear had its own little way of bringing strangers together.

Once he arrived downstairs, Quentin still did not see a single thing that looked out of place. However, he heard rustling to his right, and when his vision panned over, he noticed a familiar girl with her hands rummaging through a deep chest.

“Laurie?” he questioned, approaching her. She turned around briskly, her courageous eyes staring back up at him. Shortly after, the realization that it was Quentin struck her strongly, and she jumped up in joy.

“Quentin!” she screeched, still trying to maintain a healthy voice level. “Where have you been? Did he hurt you at all? Where did he take you? He doesn’t normally take hostages, Quentin. Maybe it isn’t him.” For the first time, he had seen her spiral out in uncontrollable emotions. He was used to seeing her rationalize; to think before she made any steps forward, and now that he was watching her impulsively freak out about his return, it felt a bit awkward.

“I’m alright. He didn’t really hurt me. He took me to the cabin in the middle, you remember where that is, right?” She nodded in response. “Well, he took me there, and then left. Then, he came back with flowers. I don’t think he even wanted me as a hostage; I mean, he was keeping me in there alone, and he didn’t want me to leave at all, but he let me leave now, so I’m definitely alright for now.”

“ _Flowers_?” Laurie looked as if she was about to fall fatally ill. “You have to be kidding me right now.”

Quentin shook his head. “I’m not.”

“Well, don’t look behind you, but…” she trailed off, causing Quentin to disobey her word, and he proceeded to peer over his shoulder curiously. He noticed Michael, breathing heavily, staring directly at him as he spoke to Laurie. Slowly, Quentin turned back to look at her, and she revealed her truth. “I think he’s nursing emotions for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this was interesting enough! i don't feel too bad about this one :)
> 
> i now have a ko-fi! https://ko-fi.com/fox0551


	12. Anna | The Huntress/OC

_ requested by:  _ Writers_Glitch

***************************************

The sound of rain dripping from a wooden rooftop echoed throughout the realm. Not many other sounds were present except for one pair of quiet footsteps and soft humming in the distance. Even the rain had taken a calm demeanor for the day, and anyone in the realm had not minded the choice either. It could be calming when it was pouring, but the forest floor remained soaked forever, which set up a few minor issues for certain people.

Morana felt her legs ache from trudging through the mud for so long. It had felt like hours, in fact, because of the distance between where she woke up and where she planned to go. The Entity usually chose the killers to wake up around the same area to communicate for the ones that found their voice, but Morana had woken up all alone that morning.

Her black hair fell down to the middle of her back, and on top of her head sat a dark-toned hat. In fact, all of her clothes were some shade of dark gray, nonetheless black. She wore black heels, a black blouse, a black hat, black nail polish, black hair, a dark necklace, and gray pants. She surely seemed to like it that way; dark, just like her interior after watching her parents’ traumatic torture unfold.

Time did not feel like it separated the present from the past, when her family was taken hostage. Ever since the Entity graced her with the powers to enforce rage upon the people who caused her family so much pain, she never thought about the relativity of time. It had not needed to cross her mind at any instance, and she did not mind forgetting about time completely. She did think of her past a lot, but time never interrupted.

However, right now was not the time to dwell on her past. Morana took a deep breath after pausing, and she was right back to walking forward, her shoes cutting deep into the mud that created the forest floor. The rain had managed to slow down even more, and now it was barely even a drizzle. The ground still felt like it had rained for years, and it  _ had  _ rained for years if time actually had existed in the realm, but Morana digressed. It had been worse for her before.

Finally, Morana noticed a figure in the distance. The humming radiating in the air gradually became louder, and Morana felt her heart skip a beat. Long, paper rabbit ears protruded from a mask that the humming shape was wearing, and the form had a large axe in its hands. Morana knew she had come to the right place.

“Hey there, Anna,” she greeted. Her voice was light-hearted but soft enough to provoke Anna’s head to swivel around. Anna was wearing a rabbit mask that only covered half of her face, and her eyes were still bright and lively, seen through the holes in the mask. As long as she could see Anna’s ‘beautiful’ eyes, Morana was happy.

“How are you?” A thick Russian accent presented itself in Anna’s voice. Morana loved that about her, too. 

“I’m okay. I just woke up a bit ago, and as soon as I did, I came here.” She wore slight eye bags under her eyes, yet they had always been apparent. That day, they had not appeared much heavier than normal, but Anna had a special way of reading Morana without her saying a word. Morana was the same way with Anna; sometimes, their bond felt telepathic.

“I can tell.” The two women shared a laugh. “You have no trial today?”

“No,” Morana sighed. “What’ve you got down there? That looks like a giant deer.” Morana’s eyes traveled down to the ground in front of the both of them, and sat there the dead animal that she had mentioned. It had large antlers, stretching farther than Morana’s entire height, and its fur was light brown, although tampered with mud and blood.

“Elk,” Anna shortly replied, crouching down to proudly show Morana her work. “I just killed it after trial.” Her eyes glistened in the looming darkness of the realm as she began to organize the parts of flesh, muscle, and other parts of her soon-to-be food.

“I assume you had fun killing some humans during the trial, yeah?” Morana chuckled, and Anna instantly nodded in response. Taking a seat next to Anna, Morana kicked her feet up on a stump perched perfectly in front of the log that they had sat on. After the conversation became passive, Anna began to hum again, and Morana let herself get comfortable. The lullaby always released her intense feelings and relaxed her, and she made it a promise and a bet to herself that she would sleep next to Anna one day because of the song alone.

Morana’s eyes opened to the noise of Anna hacking off flesh with a hatchet. She bit her lip, observing as Anna did what she did best, and she felt slightly intrigued on how to properly skin and divide an animal and its meat. She knew that Anna grew up doing this and would continue to do it, and she would still try to hunt new prey each time she came across it. The fact that she had done it so effortlessly, even after knowing how to for ages, sparked interest in Morana’s core.

“You wanna… show me how?” she proposed, her eyes flickering with anticipation. Anna’s head swiveled, resting atop her left shoulder. Her eyes peered at Morana, hidden excitement blinking within surprise. She laid her hatchet down and kept her eyes on Morana as she opened her mouth to speak.

“Sure. Come here.” Morana obeyed. Her eyes laid on the animal, observing the intricate movements that Anna made to properly prepare the animal for consumption. “Quick slash,” Anna guided, swiping the hatchet under the animal’s flesh over and over again. Once a sheet of flesh came off, Morana nodded in acknowledgement. “Learning?”

“Yeah,” she answered briefly. “Do you mind if I just stay here for the day? I don’t really have anything to do.” Morana felt a flush of red and pink rush to her cheeks, and she immediately knew that the moment Anna looked over at her, her underlying feelings would be revealed just by a glance. Considering how they could both read each other’s expressions, Morana was vulnerable as soon as she began to blush.

Anna noticed. “I mind not if you stay for night, too.”

“Alright.” Morana felt her heart race - something she had not felt in quite a while. Resting her head on Anna’s broad left shoulder, she felt peace inside her core for once. Right after she began to relax, Morana began to fall drowsy, and it was not long before she was softly snoring on Anna’s arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> morana is @writers_glitch's oc, and i take no credit for her.
> 
> wow i got this out quick! when i put my mind to things, i can complete them :d
> 
> i have no other requests! take your chances.
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/fox0551


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